City of Endless Sky- Mortal Instruments Fanfiction
by collaborate.fmc
Summary: Clary Fray, Jace Herondale, Isabelle and Alec Lightwood, and Simon Lewis have all grown to be adults and had children of their own. Everything is worked out- Sebastian and Valentine are gone- it should all be okay, right? Wrong. Nephilim are being killed every day, for no apparent reason. Who is it? What is behind this? Who can stop it, and why is this happening? ON HOLD FOR NOW
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

 _May 27th, 2007_

Elaine Penhallow knew that she was going to die.

Her hand shook as she tried to trace an _iratze_ onto her leg, where the blood was the thickest, but the rune faded almost instantly. Biting her lip so as not to cry out in pain, Elaine attempted to trace another healing rune onto her leg. Her fingers trembled violently and the stele clattered to the ground. Elaine slumped to the side, weak from the blood loss.

"Help," she called weakly. She knew that there was no one here, no one to save her.

Not even Aline Penhallow, her sister, who had promised her that she would always be there if Elaine needed her….

Elaine's body racked with violent coughs and she spasmed forwards, blood splattering the ground as she coughed. The night air was cold and harsh. She was far away from the Institute, far away from where anyone could help her.

Despair crashed over Elaine in a wave and her head fell to the ground, too heavy to

support anymore. Agony washed up her leg and throbbed at her throat, like a white-hot wire jabbing its way from her thigh, up her hip, to her head. Her dark gear was soaked in blood, her dagger rusting with it. Elaine tried desperately to hold onto something. What had happened?  
The fairy had happened. With the fine features and slightly pointed ears and curled, delicate hair, Elaine could spot a fairy. Aline's girlfriend, Helen, was half-fairy, after all, and she had the same features, but none of the same cruelty of the fairies. This fairy had been dark-haired and beautiful. Like someone she vaguely knew…

Elaine tried to grasp at the knowledge, but it was too distant for her weary mind. She

reached out to touch her stele. It burned white. A comforting color- like witchlight. Elaine grasped it tightly in her hand, like it was her lifeline. The rotting debris of leaves and dirt scraped her cheek and she let her eyelashes slide down.

 _Just sleep,_ Elaine told herself. _I'll just sleep…_ Exhaustion and pain washed over her.

An alarmed yell cut through the stillness of the night. Elaine forced her eyes to jerk open. "Who is it?" She tried to sound threatening, but her voice was faint, breaking off. Elaine hated herself for being so weak at that moment, so… _not_ like a Shadowhunter.

Thorns separated and two dark figures crashed through, followed by more, winding around Elaine. Witchlight illuminated faces. Dimly, Elaine saw fine, silky golden hair and irises like gold, washed in the silvery light of the witchlight.

"Elaine Penhallow?" The shocked words made their way to Elaine's side. A confused expression illuminated Jace Herondale's face.

Beside him, Clary Fray gasped and rushed to Elaine's side. Her dark red hair was pulled back, her eyes wide. "Someone- I need a stele!" She shouted, desperation in her voice.

Elaine tried to force words out of her mouth- something that would tell the Shadowhunters that it wouldn't work, that the wounds were too great, but all that came out was a moan. Clary's face was white in the witchlight, starkly pale against the blood- Elaine's blood- staining her gear. She set the tip of the stele to Elaine's ankle, and her hand was surprisingly steady as she traced an _iratze._

Like Elaine had suspected, it faded quickly. Clary's hand quickly drew another healing rune.

Someone stepped forwards- a woman, with sleek black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail, a golden ladder curling up her wrist. Isabelle Lightwood. Elaine struggled to sit up, to tell them that it wouldn't work, but Isabelle spoke for her. She laid a hand on Clary's wrist. "Clary. It won't work."

Clary's eyes were fierce- dimly, Elaine could appreciate the younger girl's strength. "I'm not giving up," she ground out.

Isabelle's eyes darkened. "Clary-"

Jace lowered his witchlight- it cast sharp shadows across his face, making his eyes look black. Pain throbbed up Elaine's leg and she groaned through gritted teeth. _Hurry up,_ she thought, desperate. _Hurry up…_

"We'll bring her to the Institute." Jace's eyes flashed darkly- his eyes locked onto Elaine's. She couldn't move her head. She stared into his golden irises, determined not to let another sound of pain escape her lips.

Clary pressed her lips together. "Fine."  
The group of Shadowhunters carefully closed in on Elaine, lifting her. With each movement, agony burst in Elaine's head, a supernova of color. She was being carried to… a car. Elaine let herself be laid down across a seat, and the last thing she saw before she gave herself over to unconsciousness was Clary's green eyes, flashing with worry and fear and strength.

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 _Two weeks later_

The lingering warmth of summer had ended, and fall had crept in steadily. Nora Lewis shivered, drawing her windbreaker tighter around her shoulders. Central Park smelled clean and flat, like autumn. Nora leaned against the trunk of a thick tree. She narrowed her hazel eyes, scanning the park to make sure that no mundanes were in sight.

"Quit stalling and get on with it!" The shout reached Nora's ears from the top of a jagged rock, protruding from the ground. Perched on top stood Benjamin Herondale and Lucy Roberts, both wearing dark gear, arms bare despite the cold weather.

"Will you really attack me?" Nora yelled back.

Benjamin shrugged, green eyes flashing mischievously. "Maybe."

Nora bit back a response- she didn't want Benjamin or Lucy thinking that she was nervous. This was her so-called "coming-of-age" trial that Benjamin and Lucy had created a week before. It involved knives, flipping from a rock, daggers, and some other possibly deathly things that Benjamin, a Shadowhunter through and through, loved.

"Fine." Nora tightened her fists around the cold sleeves of her jacket, touching the stele tucked into her jeans' pocket. _I am ready._

She had just thought these words when a blur spiraled in front of her eyes, too quickly to even see, and landed in front of her, claws snapping out.

Lucy Roberts. Like her mother, Lucy was a werewolf. Now, she grinned, sporting canine like teeth, and lunged at Nora. Nora flinched, hands flinging up to protect her face.

"Grab the dagger! Duck!" Benjamin shouted from his rock. Nora gritted her teeth and unsheathed her dagger. It caught the filtered sunlight for just a moment, reflecting off of the newly polished blade, as Nora swung the sword down. Nora darted to the side and scraped her claws down Nora's shoulder- the pain was so intense that Nora's eyes watered. She gasped and whirled her blade around, the tip dragging against Lucy's wrist. The fire of battle was in her veins- it didn't matter that Lucy was one of her best friends. All that mattered was the fight.

Lucy peeled back her lips in a snarl and sprang forwards, claws digging into Nora's back. "FIGHT BACK!" Benjamin bellowed- he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. "STOP BEING GIRLS!"  
"I _am_ a girl," Nora muttered, ducking and twisting away from Lucy. She jabbed wildly with her dagger, but Lucy was already darting around her to rake her claws against Nora's thigh. Nora clenched her jaw,gripping her sword tightly. Lucy lunged, arms outstretched, and Nora saw the opening. She ducked under Lucy's claws and brought her sword tip up in a whirling arc, the point hovering just above Lucy's collarbone.

Nora was breathing heavily, sweat rolling down her face. She wiped it off with one bloody hand, leaving a smear of crimson across her cheek, and inspected her arms. "I'll need some _iratzes_ for that," she remarked.

"Sorry." Lucy was also panting- she wiped her dark hair from where it stuck to her forehead.

"Sorry? _Sorry_?" Benjamin leapt down from the rock, landing easily and gracefully, as if he were a cat. "You never apologize to your opponent."

Nora rolled her eyes. "Please. When you were sparring with Bailey-"

"That was different," Benjamin interrupted. "I sliced her arm open."

"True," Nora admitted. She untucked her stele from her pocket and carefully traced an _iratze_ onto her forearm. The torn skin was already starting to knit together, the blood drying up. "Can we go get lunch at Taki's? Or is there more of this 'coming-of-age' ritual that I have to endure?"

Benjamin glanced down at his watch, hesitating. "Magnus is opening the Portal to Idris in three hours."

Nora instinctively glanced over at Lucy- a suddenly bitter look passed darkly over the other girl's face, and Nora immediately felt guilty. She knew that Lucy had wanted to come to Idris with the other Shadowhunters at the New York Institute, but she was needed here for her pack.

"That's a long time from now," Lucy interrupted, hazel eyes touching Nora's for just a second. Nora started to protest, but Lucy shook her head, cutting her off. "Plus, Nora could probably use some energy."

"Okay." Benjamin's green eyes, so much like his mother, Clary's, flickered uneasily from Nora to Lucy. Though his delicate facial features and spring-green eyes spoke strongly of Clary, his strong build and his fine, silky golden hair also told that he was Jace Herondale's son. "Let's go."

The rune stood starkly in Bailey's mind, glowing behind her eyelids, so close that she could almost reach out and touch it, but it was fading, slowly leaving-

Bailey Ravenmark jolted up in bed, mind burning, sheets twisted around her, filmed with cold sweat. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to grasp at the rune that had once filled her mind- but it was slipping away, like water trickling through her fingers. She let out a groan of frustration.

This had happened every day since two weeks ago. A rune had appeared in Bailey's mind, nearly glowing, and then, upon waking, it was gone. Vanished.

"Bailey?" The call drifted in from outside, in the hallway.

 _Dang it._ Bailey jumped out of bed, hurriedly stepping into a dark gray T-shirt and jeans. She combed her fingers through her tangled, dark-blond hair, which didn't make much of a difference, and scrambled clumsily out of the door, nearly tripping over her own feet and almost landing face-first on the floor.

Managing to catch herself, Bailey looked up into the coolly amused, gray-green eyes of Jonah Goldwalker. "Hello, Jonah," she said warily.

Jonah's eyes glittered in his strong-boned, finely crafted face. His white-blond hair fell in delicate ringlets around his face, curling back to show the tips of his slightly pointed ears. His skin was a pale, creamy-white, almost shiny hue, symbolizing his faerie blood. "Where were you?"

"I was napping." Bailey clipped the words out. "What did you call me for?" She had never liked Jonah, or trusted him. He hung around the Institute, occasionally watching their training or dropping in to eat lunch with them, and still, Bailey didn't like him. He was silent, graceful, like a Shadowhunter, and yet… he seemed almost predatory. Like he would kill someone and enjoy it.

"Benjamin texted you." Jonah dug Bailey's phone out of his pocket- she snatched it from him. "Why did you have this?" Bailey couldn't keep the suspicion out of her words.

Jonah laughed, leaning easily against the wall, his hands sliding into his jeans' pockets. He looked so casual that Bailey could _almost_ see why Benjamin was friends with him. "Relax, B. It was lying right in the middle of the library- I didn't want it to get stepped on."

Bailey didn't respond. Jonah could be strange at times. "Thanks." It came out colder than she had intended.

Jonah's mouth curled into a grin, but the warmth didn't touch his eyes. "It was no problem."

Bailey ducked back into her room, scrolling through her messages. There was one new one, from Benjamin.

NORA AND LUCY AND I ARE AT TAKI'S FOR LUNCH BEFORE MAGNUS OPENS THE PORTAL. WANT TO DROP BY?

Bailey's stomach grumbled in response. It had been a while since she had walked to the deli nearby to eat breakfast. Plus, she didn't want to be alone in the Institute with only Jonah… quickly, Bailey texted back a reply, tugged on her jacket, and hurried outside.

The New York air was brisk against her face. Bailey skirted the swarms of mundanes,

racing down the cramped sidewalk to Taki's. The glamor peeled away almost instantly as Bailey looked at it- she had become skilled at stripping away glamours quickly.

The bell above the door chimed as Bailey opened it. Her eyes fell upon Lucy, Nora and Benjamin, sitting at one of the crooked tables in the back. Bailey hung back, behind the man in front of her- his eyes were dark, skin milky-pale, his hair straight and dark, and he was ordering a cup of coffee mixed with blood. _Vampire,_ Bailey knew immediately.

When the vampire had seated himself, Bailey stepped up to the counter, examining the menu behind the faerie waitress, Kaelie. "Just a coffee, please."

Kaelie turned and disappeared behind the counter. Bailey leaned against the counter, waiting, as Kaelie reappeared with a cup of coffee in one hand.

"Here." She slapped it down on the counter, and Bailey paid and made her way to where her friends sat.

"Where were you?" Benjamin scooted over to make room for Bailey- she shrugged her jacket off and slid into the booth beside him. "You missed the first stage of Nora's coming-of-age trial."

"I did?" Bailey couldn't resist a grin at the sour expression on Nora's face. "What did I miss?"

"Not a lot. Only Benjamin screaming at us." Nora glared at Benjamin- he shrugged, smiling easily. "What can I do, as your mentor?"  
Nora flicked a wadded-up straw wrapper at Benjamin. "Shut up."

"Ahh… you do not want to face it. You cannot resist my charming charisma!"

"How cute," Lucy broke in sarcastically. "Can you guys stop the flirting? You're making us all sick."

Bailey smiled- and her phone buzzed in her jacket pocket, just as Nora and Benjamin's did. She frowned, prizing it out, and flipping it open.

It was a call from Clary Fray. Bailey frowned down at her phone. _What on earth?_ She quickly slid to accept the call and held the phone to her ear. "Hello, this is Bailey Ravenmark?"

"Bailey?" Clary's voice was crackly with static and tense, almost strained. "Thank God that you're okay. Where are you? Are you with anyone?"

"Yeah- Lucy, Nora, and Benjamin at Taki's." Something in Clary's voice was making panic start to crawl up Bailey's throat. She gripped the edge of the table tightly, her knuckles reddening. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"  
"Bailey-" Clary's voice was choked. "Three Nephilim have been killed. We're at the Silent City with the Silent Brothers. They're examining. Please come over as quickly as you can, and bring everyone else."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

"What do you think happened?" Benjamin asked for the fifth time since they had left Taki's. His fingertips tapped restlessly against his thigh. "I mean, three Nephilim killed... by a demon, do you think?"

Bailey checked her phone again. There were no new messages. She bit her lip, digging her teeth into her skin. "Clary didn't say that demons had killed them. And would they really be at the Silent City if demons had killed them? Shadowhunters die all the time, but if it's this important..." Bailey broke off. They all knew what she was thinking. The air inside of the taxi cab was strained and tense.

Bailey scrolled through her messages, just to have something to do. There was one from two weeks ago- from Magnus, reporting to them all that Elaine Penhallow had died from an unknown source. At that time, Bailey had just thought that it was a demon. But now, the two were eerily linked... Bailey swallowed and looked down at the knuckles of her left hand. She could taste fear, growing in the back of her throat, coppery and metal.

Luckily, the cab ride was short. Bailey nearly jumped out, followed by the others, to see Clary Fray and Simon Lewis, standing shoulder to shoulder, both looking pale and worried.

"Dad! What _happened_?" Nora ran to her father. Simon rubbed his fingertips under his glasses. He looked terrible, Bailey thought- shadows under his strained eyes, his skin pale, his lips bitten and chapped, his dark hair already beginning to be shot through with strands of silver.

"There were three Nephilim killed this morning... unknown source. All that we know is that it isn't a demon, or a Greater Demon," Simon said wearily. Clary's lips tightened- she ran one hand over her ponytail. Her dark red hair was scraped back severely, her mouth twisted into a tight knot. "The Silent Brothers are doing examinations on the bodies."

"Who were they?" Lucy had hung back in the initial moment- now she stepped up, her golden eyes flashing.

"Jeanne Blackthorn and Charlie and Maya Goldwalker." Simon splayed his fingers out and examined his nails.

 _Goldwalker._ Bailey's mind flashed. "Jonah!" she exclaimed. Clary looked at her in obvious confusion, her eyebrows drawing together. "Excuse me?"

"Jonah is a Goldwalker. Don't they have faerie blood in their ancestry?" Bailey said. Her mind was lighting up. She tightened her fingers behind her back nd started pacing up and down.

"And so do the Blackthorns," Benjamin said slowly.

"And Elaine Penhallow- her sister married a Blackthorn. All of them have something in common to the faeries," Bailey added excitedly. "Does this mean that the- well, whatever keeps killing the Nephilim- are against faerie blood?"

Clary pursed her lips together. "I don't know," she said carefully. "We might as well go see what the Silent Brothers have said." She turned and led them down the intricate maze of hallways, twisting and winding together. The darkness pressed down on Bailey- she shivered, digging her witchlight out of her pocket. It glowed through her fingers, illuminating the hallway.

 _We have done the examinations._ The eerie words of a Silent Brother echoed in Bailey's head- she spun around to see Brother Jeremiah, his parchment hood over his face, features cast into shadow in the half-darkness.

"Really?" Clary's eyebrows shuffled together. "And what happened?"

 _We found this._ Brother Jeremiah held up a small, silver dagger with blood rusting on the handle. _We found a non-Clave-approved faerie weapon._

"What do you mean, faerie weapon?" Bailey asked, heart racing, palms beading with sweat.

 _The faeries are using weapons to kill Nephilim._ Brother Jeremiah's face shifted- Bailey could see his lips, bound with thin black string. _Why? We do not know._


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Nora's stomach churned as they- she, Lucy, Benjamin and Bailey- made their way out of the Silent City. Carefully, she extracted her witchlight from her pocket- not really to light up anything, just to have something to do with her restless hands- and allowed the glow to fill the dark.

This didn't make sense. No sense at all. Nora bit her lips so hard that it hurt- she hated this feeling, this feeling of utter helplessness, not being able to do anything, anything at all.

"I agree," Bailey murmured behind her.

Nora spun around to look at the other sixteen-year-old. She must've spoken her thoughts aloud.

Bailey raised helpless, steely grey eyes to Nora's own black ones. "I mean... we know that the faeries and the Nephilim have a complicated relationship, but this is just... just..."

"Madness." Benjamin's voice broke in from where he led the foursome out of the Silent City. His broad shoulders were so high above anyone else that Nora had to stretch up on tiptoe to see the top of his head.

"And we don't know if it was really a faerie," Lucy added. "It could've been a demon, or another Downworlder or Shadowhunter in disguise or something..." she extracted a small, battered yellow object from her pocket.

"Your _phone_?" Bailey said in disbelief. "How can you think that a _phone_ would help right now?"

Lucy scowled at her. "I'm texting my mother. Maybe she and the pack can try to figure something out on their own, while the rest of you guys are in Idris, telling the Council about this."

Nora nodded tersely. "Good idea." She had met Maia Roberts once. The female werewolf had struck a startlingly strong figure, with her amber eyes and dark skin and wild halo of gold-brown curls. Lucy looked a lot like her, and they both shared several elements, one of which being strength. Maia was strong, especially after her mundane husband had walked out on she and Lucy when Lucy was seven. It had made both of them stronger and more tied together. Nora admired the fact.

"Clary and Simon said that they would meet us at the Institute in an hour," Bailey announced, checking her watch. Her eyes darted everywhere- the witchlight in her hands, the witchlight in Nora's palm, the floor, the darkness of the City. Nora could tell that she was just saying this fact to have something- _anything-_ logical to hold on to.

"Then we can tell the Council." Benjamin turned briefly to face them. The shadows of the witchlight cut darkly under his eyes and cheekbones, making his joking, friendly and sarcastic nature seem more intense, less funny than usual. "They know that Elaine Penhallow died, and probably even that these three other Nephilim were slaughtered, but they don't know this fact."

"The faeries dealing with a non-Clave-approved weapon?" Nora asked as they broke out of the Silent City. Dark clouds scudded over the sky- Nora shivered, drawing her jacket tighter around herself. "Has this happened before?"

"The faeries usually obey the Law. They don't like it, but it's important. _Dura lex, sed lex,_ " Benjamin recited dully. "Faeries aren't supposed to use weapons. It's part of the Law."

Frustration seized Nora's shoulders, shaking her. "But the question is, _why_?" She groaned, twisting her fingers into he hair at her temples. "Why are faeries- or _things,_ we don't know if they're demons or vampires or Shadowhunters or _anything_ \- killing Shadowhunters?" She looked up with pleading eyes to the rest of the group.

Nobody answered.

Magnus's loft was dark when Alec unlocked it. He pushed it open, surprised at the dimness. Normally, Magnus's apartment was the brightest in the complex. "Hello?" he called, dropping his keys onto the couch and peeling off his jacket. "Magnus? Are you home?"

"Yes." Magnus's voice and his body approached from the shadows, Chairman Meow following him.

Alec squinted. "Magnus, why are all of the lights turned off?"

Magnus sighed in exasperation and flicked on one of the lamps. He was wearing sparkly yoga pants and a sweatshirt, with a dark blue headband around his hair. Alec didn't ask. "I was TRYING to MEDITATE," Magnus explained.

"And how was _that_ going?" Alec kicked off his shoes and went over to the fridge, pulling open the door- he was starving. "What, you won't even stop your precious meditating for your boyfriend?" He was partly kidding, but a trace of bitterness crept into his voice as he pulled out a leftover turkey-and-mustard sandwich.

"Oh, Alec." Magnus shook his head, his face softening marginally. He went over the Alec, leaning against the counter. "Relax. Meditating is just a new yoga strategy I discovered- it has nothing to do with you."

Alec rolled his eyes, unwrapping his sandwich.

"Alec." Magnus hooked his fingers into the wrists of Alec's long-sleeved shirt. "Look at me."

Grudgingly, Alec did. Magnus's eyes found his own. "You can't possibly think that I'd give up you for _meditating,_ would you?" When Alec didn't respond, he added, "Well, I wouldn't. Never."

Very softly, Magnus leaned in and kissed Alec. Alec stood still for a moment, but just a moment- he moved closer to Magnus, touching his boyfriend's shoulder to steady himself.

Just then, the phone chimed, and Magnus stepped back reluctantly. "Might be important." He flashed a grin at Alec. "Give me a moment."

"Okay." Alec turned back to his sandwich, just as he heard Magnus gasp.

Alec _never_ heard Magnus gasp.

He whirled around, nearly dropping the sandwich. "What? What happened? Is it Izzy?" His mind flashed to the various possibilities in a nanosecond.

Magnus straightened up, face ashen. "Clary and Simon are at the Silent City." He was striding to get his tweed jacket. "Three more Nephilim have been slaughtered. The Silent Brothers think that a faerie has done this. We have to open the Portal thirty minutes early." He was halfway out the door, stopping when he realized that Alec wasn't following him. "Come on!"

"I wasn't supposed to go to Idris- I was, um, supposed to stay here." It sounded feeble, even to Alec's ears.

Magnus sighed impatiently. "Well, you're coming now. Come on. The Council needs to know about this before more Shadowhunters die."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Isabelle's phone buzzed just as she was making her way out of the door. Sighing, she doubled back, examining the caller ID. It was Alec. Isabelle's eyebrows shuffled together. _What happened?_ She held the phone up to her ear. "Alec, this had better be good, I was just on my way to get a new electrum whip before we go to Idris-"

"Well, you won't have time." Alec's voice was tense, almost locked. Isabelle froze- alarm crept up her throat. When Alec spoke like that, it was never good.

"What happened, Alec?" Isabelle asked, as calmly as possible. "Is everyone okay?"

"Three more Nephilim have been slaughtered. Clary and Simon are down at the Silent City with the Silent Brothers. Magnus told me that the Brothers found a dagger- they think that a faerie might have been using it as a non-Clave-approved weapon." Alec's words were curt.

"Oh, my God." Isabelle had started pacing without even realizing it- she forced herself to stop. "Where is Nora?" Her mind flashed instantly to her daughter. "Is she okay? Where are you? What are you doing?" The questions poured like water from a tap out of Isabelle's mouth.

"Nora is okay. She and Benjamin and Bailey are at the Institute... Lucy's okay, too, she went with Maia to tell the pack," Alec reassured her.

Isabelle felt marginally better. "What's happening now?"

"Magnus is opening the Portal to Idris in fifteen minutes, and you, Clary, Simon, Jace, Bailey, Benjamin, and Nora are going through." There. Simple and easy facts. Isabelle could grasp those, even in the midst of this tension.

"Okay. I'll be down there." Isabelle hung up, tucking the phone into her pocket, and dashed to her and Simon's shared room in this tiny apartment. She rifled through her clothes, exchanging her fancy ones for more practical, more simple gear, winding her dark, long hair up out of her face and into a bun, jabbing a small dagger into the top to keep it from unraveling. Her electrum whip curled up around wrist, her seraph blade rested at her hip, and she had a witchlight stone and her stele tucked into her back pocket. Isabelle grabbed her stylish, mint green suitcase that she had packed specifically for Idris two nights before, and ducked quickly out of the apartment, pausing only to grab her daughters' suitcase and to lock the door.

She sprinted down the cramped New York sidewalk, trusting the mundanes passing to only see an overly-sweatered woman in her late forties, not a Shadowhunter with daggers of all sorts. As she ran, Isabelle traced a Voyance rune onto the back of her left hand and a Strength rune onto her right.

She was prepared. She was ready for whatever might come.

Nora paced up and down, chewing the skin around her thumb. The cold air whipped at her dark hair, sending it flying into her face, cutting her vision into strips. She checked her phone for the fifteenth time- the battery was dying quickly, and her mother, Isabelle Lightwood, still hadn't responded.

"Where _is_ she?" Nora growled, half-impatient and half-worried. Nerves were tangling up in her stomach, and she felt tight everywhere, her stomach almost snapping with hunger. She hadn't had anything to eat since this morning, at breakfast, and that was just a banana and yogurt at Jace's orders. Nora still hadn't gotten used to her intense training schedule.

"You look pale." Simon set a hand on Nora's back- his glasses were slightly askew on the bridge of his narrow nose, and his brown hair was jumbled, his eyes bloodshot. He kept rubbing them under his glasses, signs that he was just as stressed and tired as Nora was.

Nora couldn't resist a snort. "Take a look in a mirror."

Simon managed a weary smile. "It will be okay, Nora," he said calmly. "The Silent Brothers will figure it out." While his voice was steady, he clenched his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white.

Nora checked her phone again. Zero messages. " _Where is Mom_?" she snapped impatiently.

Simon blinked unsteadily, taking a moment to process everything. "Your mother is probably on her way." He stifled a yawn.

"You need a cup of coffee," Nora told him.

"If you could conjure one out of thin air, that would be great." Simon gave her a half-hearted grin, which she couldn't manage to return. She tried to push the ever-growing knot of anxiety and hunger away, massaging her temples.

"It doesn't make sense," she murmured.

Simon's eyes softened. "It will," he said. "Just let the Clave do what they need to do."

"Like the _Clave_ ever does anything right." Nora couldn't resist the sarcasm. Simon pursed his lips.

"Don't start arguing with me," Nora cut in before he could even begin. "What about you and Clary, when Jace was being brainwashed by Sebastian? Did you really listen to the Clave _then_?"

"No," Simon admitted. He pushed his glasses up and pressed his fingertips into his eyes. "But that was different. Faeries weren't slaughtering stuff all over the place."

"We don't even KNOW if it's really faeries doing all this!" Nora's voice cracked with strain. Simon's eyes were scrunched. He dug a protein bar out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. "Here. You need some fuel," he said gently.

It was only slightly flattened. Nora took it with grudging gratefulness, unwrapping it and biting into it. It tasted stale, but whatever.

The sound of running footsteps made Nora, and all of the others gathered at the Institute, turn. It was Isabelle Lightwood. She was dressed in full gear, a seraph blade at her hip, a small dagger holding her bun in place, dark Marks twined up her arms, her electrum whip curled like a ladder of golden bracelets up her wrist. She approached them. "Sorry that I was late. I was busy-"

"Getting dressed?" Simon's mouth twisted wryly. "We're not going into battle, Izzy. We're just going to Idris to tell the Clave."

"Whatever," Isabelle snapped. "Facing the Clave _is_ like going into battle."

"I agree," Jace said. He was leaning against the wall of the Institute, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, but there was something in the tense set of his jaw that alerted Nora that he was just as stressed as the rest of them. "We might as well be prepared for the Clave. Who knows what they'll do."

"Whatever it is, we're going into it together," Clary announced.

"Oh God. Spare me the cheesy pep talk," Benjamin muttered to himself, just loud enough for Nora to hear- she couldn't resist a grin.

"That's right." Jace leaned over and kissed Clary quickly- Benjamin shielded his eyes.

Magnus cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt," he began, his voice thick with sarcasm, "but we kind of have limited time here. Can we get going?"

Clary stepped back from the kiss. "Here, let me do it." She slid her stele from her pocket, placing the tip against the wall of the Institute. Nora watched, fascinated. She had never seen Clary draw a Portal before, only heard about it from her father and mother and others at the Institute.

Thick black Marks spiraled from Clary's stele, and her face was set with concentration, her teeth snagging on her lips. Slowly, a door yawned open, facing a small, humble house. _Amatis's house,_ Nora thought in awe. She had never thought that she was actually going to see it in person- she had only heard about Luke's sister from Benjamin, and small snippets of information from her parents.

"Who needs a warlock, anyways, to open a Portal?" Magnus muttered. Nora saw Alec take his hand, fingers lacing with Magnus's, and Magnus's face softening.

Clary and Jace stepped into the Portal, instantly disappearing. Benjamin and Bailey followed. Then Magnus and Alec and Izzy- and finally, Simon and Nora were left. Simon locked eyes with her, and she tilted up her chin, setting her jaw.

 _I'm not afraid._

 _I am ready._

And with that, Nora stepped into the Portal, allowing New York to disappear behind her and Idris to become reality.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Nora's feet slammed into the floor of Amatis's house, pain expanding around the edges of her toes. Everyone else was already standing, looking around in some degree of awe.

Nora straightened up. The house was small and humble, the only decorations being a few dusty pictures on the mantel. Nora swiped one fingertip through the film. It showed a picture of a laughing woman and Luke, both grinning at the camera.

"That was Amatis." Isabelle had come up to stand behind her- the corners of Nora's mother's mouth were hard. "And then she was forced to drink from the Infernal Cup." Her already-black eyes darkened and she looked away.

"She was beautiful," Nora murmured.

"She had a lot of problems," Isabelle muttered. She handed Nora her suitcase. "Here. Your clothes, your gear... you should go get unpacked. We'll be telling the Clave tomorrow, when there's a Clave Meeting."

"Oh. Thanks." Nora would be grateful to change out of these clothes- the fibers of the arm of her T-shirt were stiff with dried blood from where Lucy sliced her. Isabelle noticed and whirled around, her eyes flashing with alarm and worry. "Nora!" She grabbed her daughter's arm. "What _happened_? Are you hurt? Did you get attacked?"

"No..." Nora glanced at Benjamin over her mother's shoulder- he was looking sheepish. He stepped up to Isabelle, clearing his throat. "We were training, and Lucy's claws caught Nora... it's okay, she put on several iratzes, she seems fine."

"Yeah. What he said." Nora pulled away from Isabelle's grasp. Isabelle nodded curtly.

"Right. Well, put on some more iratzes. And you should go get unpacked," Isabelle instructed. Nora pursed her lips together. "Fine." She was eager to get away from Isabelle and up the stairs, ducking into one of the spare rooms. Benjamin followed her, leaning against the door.

"Is Isabelle... uptight about something?" Benjamin asked, scrubbing one hand through his hair and making it stick up in silky plumes. Nora unzipped her suitcase and examined the zipper.

"No..." she fumbled for words. "She's just... worried. About all of this. I don't really think that she wanted me to the become a Shadowhunter and have to experience all that she and her friends experienced..."

"Like getting stuck in Edom?" The corners of Benjamin's lips twitched.

"Yeah." Nora looked down into her suitcase and pressed her fingertips into her temples- she was starting to get a headache. "And with this faerie stuff on top of it..." Nora rubbed her hands over her face.

Then, Benjamin did something completely unexpected- he gently placed one hand on Nora's back. His fingertips were warm, and he shifted his hand, touching her chin with one fingertip, making her lock eyes with him. Nora felt her breath freeze in her chest.

"If the stupid Clave can't figure this out, then we can," Benjamin said. "Okay?" His eyes were dark.

Nora couldn't do anything but nod. "Okay," she said.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"Ugh. Terrible."

It was all Jonah Goldwalker could do to not spit out the thin, bitter, lukewarm coffee that he had found in the coffee maker three minutes prior to tasting it. _Benjamin probably made it,_ he figured. Well, it was caffeine, and Jonah didn't want to walk down to Taki's, even though it would only take a few minutes. He lifted the cup to his lips again, holding his breath to prevent himself from retching.

Jonah managed another gulp, then set the mug down with a clatter. His eyes drifted to the clock on the stove. _4:14,_ the digital numerals reported. A frown twitched on Jonah's mouth. It was fifteen minutes till Magnus Bane was supposed to open the Portal, and Nora, Benjamin, and Bailey still hadn't come back... Jonah's frown deepened as he stepped outside of the kitchen, walking down the smooth, empty hallway to the library.

The dusky smell of books was thick in the air, and three suitcases sat innocently by the door. Jonah's eyebrows pulled together, nearly touching each other. _Why aren't they here?_ he wondered silently.

Maybe they were already outside... Jonah stepped over to the window, pushing back the curtains. Golden late-afternoon sunlight filtered in through the dusty glass. Jonah hooked his fingertips under the window, pushing it open with a grunt of effort, and leaned his head out to examine.

The yard surrounding the Institute was bare.

Something fluttered at the edge of Jonah's vision, catching his eye. He turned to see a perfect maple leaf, the exact shade of red and gold that it should be in this time of year, lovely and trapped at the edge of the window. Jonah carefully pried it free. The wind whipped at his hair, throwing it back over his face- he pushed it out of his eyes and examined the leaf.

There was thin, black writing scrawled on one side. Jonah narrowed his eyes, reading the slanted script.

 _TO JONAH GOLDWALKER- The Seelie Queen has requested an audience with you. Be there at five o'clock, your time. Do not be late. Come promptly._

It was a faerie message.

A smile crawled over Jonah's lips, insane and wild. "Finally," he whispered. "I thought that the day would never come."

Bailey stood in the brutally icy air of Idris, shivering inside of her thin jacket. Her cold hands felt for her sleeves and she zipped her jacket up tighter, huddling down into the collar. The wind whipped at her hair, making it stick to her chapped lips. She pulled it free with her numb hands and leaned against Amatis's house.

She had told the others inside that she had just wanted to come out to get a view of Idris, but it was more than that. It was the want to clear her head- her temples had been aching ever since she had been to the Silent City, and a feeling of... _wrongness_ prickled in her stomach. Bailey swallowed the feeling down, but it pricked at her with sharp claws, making her stomach churn.

"Hello." The door of Amatis's house pulled open, and Clarissa Fray stepped out. Her dark red hair was drawn back in a smooth ponytail, and her eyes looked too big in her pale face. She managed a tight smile in Bailey's direction.

"Did you come out here to enjoy the views of Idris as well?" Bailey said dryly.

Clary slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans- the wind nipped at her hands, making them chapped and red. "In a way." She let out a sigh that instantly froze on the cold air. "I'm glad to see an Idris that isn't war-torn." Her green eyes looked faraway and distant. "The last time I was here, we were in the middle of war with Sebastian..." She turned to look at Bailey and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I'm probably boring you with all of this talk." She sighed again. "Everything's been so crazy... with all of the Nephilim-being-killed stuff, I mean."

"I know." Bailey's shoulders scraped against the rough wall.

"I guess that I didn't come out here to enjoy the view... I came out here to clear my head." Clary look sideways at Bailey. "Is that what you came out for, too?"

"Yes." No beating around the bush, Bailey thought. Just straight-up and simple. _I'm thinking about my parents,_ she said to herself. _I'm thinking about them and how they were killed by a faerie, and is this possibly related? Can it be?_ _And..._ a chill ran down her spine. _Will I be killed, too, because my family is associated with a faerie in some way?_

"It's okay," Clary said softly, so softly it was almost not audible on the wild wind.

"No, it's not," Bailey snapped. To her horror, hot tears pricked at her eyelids- she blinked forcefully, pushing them back down. "It's not. It won't be okay until all of this is solved." She wasn't leaning against the wall anymore- she was facing Clary, and rage was bubbling up in her chest, breaking free, magnified by the stress and tension in her gut. "Do you know what I went through? I thought that this would all be over, but know, faeries are still slaughtering stuff." Her voice had raised- Bailey couldn't control it. It was almost like watching herself and not being herself.

Clary looked agonized. "Bailey-" she tried.

"No." Bailey cut her off. "Who knows? I might be killed next, and I don't think that the Clave will try to stop it."

Hurt flashed in Clary's face. "Bailey, that's not true-"

"I'm sorry, Clary, but you don't know that." Bailey's rage was peaking. "You don't know that."

And she walked away without looking back.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SIX**

Jonah knelt at the edge of the water. The rising moon cast buttery ripples over the smooth, glassy surface of the lake, and though the trees swayed gently above Jonah's head, the reflection didn't appear in the water.

"The portal," Jonah whispered. That manic grin that had crept on and off his face all day since he had discovered the faerie message was back again. "Finally." The breeze caused strands of his hair to fly across his forehead- he wiped them away with one hand and allowed himself a second of doubt.

What if the other Shadowhunters at the Institute- the ones he had befriended- discovered? That one girl, Bailey, was already suspicious- Jonah could see it in the hard set of her eyes whenever she looked at him. Jonah's teeth gritted together. _By the time that they discover this, everything will be in perfect order,_ he consoled himself. _Everything will be perfect._

Jonah looked out at the lake and pulled a deep breath of the sparkling, crystalline twilight air into his lungs, and then stepped into the water.

The glassiness didn't shift. Jonah's jeans were completely dry. He smiled up at the cold moon, wading farther in, deeper, until-

He felt a small circle beneath the sole of his foot, digging into his heel. Jonah bent, fingers scrabbling around a small ball, and held it up. It was a bell on a small, knotted string. _Of course._ Jonah laid the bell in his palm.

And then he rang it, and the clear chime shattered the night, just as a whirling spiral took over Jonah's vision. He was whirling, spinning, still gripping the bell-

It was over.

Jonah's feet hit the ground and he stumbled, throwing out his hands to break his fall. He blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his head.

He was standing in a hallway, still holding the small bell in one hand. The hallway was narrow, with a curtain of tightly woven plants at the end... the way to the Seelie Court. Relief broke over Jonah, like a wave of cool, clear water, and he grinned to himself.

"Goldwalker." The curt voice came from behind Jonah- he turned to see Mai standing behind him. Delicate golden curls fell around her finely boned face. Her skin had a creamy, almost pearly hue to it, and she was clothed in a robe of gold and red, the smoky and raw colors of autumn. Her eyes were dark. "You came."

"Yes." Jonah didn't meet her eyes.

Mai pursed her lips. "Let me see the message." Jonah obliged, carefully taking the leaf from his pocket- Mai gripped it in her fingertips, eyes narrowing as she read the writing.

"Good," she said, tossing the leaf away. "The Seelie Queen awaits."

Excitement fizzled in Jonah's fingertips. He followed Mai to the end of the hallway, where she carefully pushed back the curtain, revealing the Court.

Jonah was stunned every single time that he saw the Court. It was beautiful, and yet terrible, with the will-o-wisps nailed to the wall, wailing every now and then in pain, their dying glow illuminating the cavern. In the middle of the Court was a throne, painted a deep auburn color, with vines twisting and twirling up the sides. Fresh roses sat at a pair of darkly slippered feet... Jonah's eyes rose until he met the Seelie Queen's face.

The Seelie Queen was beautiful, but there was something behind her face, something that made Jonah uneasy. He focused on her dark red hair, her pale skin, and bowed.

"Finally. I thought that I was going to have to wait forever." The Seelie Queen heaved a small sigh, and flicked her hand at Mai and the other faeries lingering in the room. "Go." Her eyes bored into Jonah's. "He and I must talk."

Respectfully, the faeries scurried out, leaving Jonah and the Seelie Queen in silence. A slight nervousness bubbled in Jonah's stomach- he clasped his hands behind his back so that the Queen wouldn't see his merciless picking of the skin around his thumbnail. "You sent me a message," he said hesitantly.

"Yes, I did." The Seelie Queen examined her nails carelessly.

When she didn't go on, Jonah ventured, "May I ask... my lady, may I ask _why_ you summoned me here?" He shifted his weight slightly from foot to foot, unable to keep his excitement contained.

The Seelie Queen narrowed her eyes at him. "Very well." She stood from her throne, tossing back her hair in a wave of scarlet, to come and stand in front of Jonah. He tried to keep as still as possible, as though playing dead would help him.

"You've been in and out of the Institute, I trust?" she asked him. Jonah nodded.

"And you've befriended the Herondale boy?"

"Benjamin? Yes." Jonah nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.

The Seelie Queen tilted her head to the side. The corners of her red lips turned up in a slight smile, with a warmth that did not reach her eyes. "Have you heard of the Nephilim slaughterings lately, Jonah?" she asked.

Jonah nodded his head vigorously. "It's all over the Institute, my lady. That's the only thing the Nephilim have been talking about for weeks."

The Seelie Queen nodded. "I am glad to hear that." She started to walk back and forth in front of Jonah, her pale, slim hands knotted behind her back. "Do you know _who_ has been slaughtering the Nephilim?"

Jonah froze, his breath catching. He wasn't sure what to say. He was almost certain that it was the fey who were responsible for the killings, but he wasn't sure wether the Seelie Queen would take pride in the fact or instantly kill him.

"Um. Well..." Jonah stuttered. "I think that... um, it was, well-"

"Cut to the point, Jonah." The Seelie Queen's voice was sickly sweet- her eyes didn't meet Jonah's. She continued to pace.

Jonah hated how small he felt. He held onto his last shred of dignity. "...You, my lady?"

The Seelie Queen smiled. "Yes." She turned to Jonah. "The fey have been killing the Nephilim. And do you know why?" She didn't wait for Jonah's response. "It is because of them. The Children of the Angel." She spat it out, like it tasted bitter in her mouth. "The Downworlders and the Nephilim have always had a strange relationship, but we have always felt like the Nephilim are more in control." The smile was gone from her face- her features seemed icy and frozen. "Why should they have the control? Though the blood of the Angel runs through their veins, they should not have the majority of the power."

Jonah's eyebrows were disappearing into his flyaway, jumbled hair- he could barely resist asking, "What are you saying, my lady?"

"I think that you know what I'm saying." The Seelie Queen stepped closer to him- Jonah could feel her breath on his face- he resisted the urge to flinch or to step back. The Seelie Queen's face was inches from his own. He could see every glimmer of light in her eyes. "We will take over the power from the Nephilim," the Seelie Queen hissed, and an insane joy came over her face. "We will take over the power. All of the Downworlders. Together."

Bailey lay awake in the tiny, sparse, dark bedroom, tangled up in the sheets, her eyes wide open.

She groaned inwardly and pressed her face into her pillow. Her eyes itched with exhaustion, but sleep wouldn't come. It was almost like her body was intentionally fighting it. _You need to get some rest before the Clave meeting,_ she told herself. _You need to sleep._

But however she might try, sleep wasn't coming. Giving up, Bailey flicked on her light, blinking a few times to adjust her eyes. From across the room, she heard rustling, and Nora sat up.

"Are you still awake?" Nora whispered sleepily. Her dark hair was in curls around her face, and her eyes were half-mast. She yawned. "Go to sleep."

"I can't." Bailey pressed the heels of her hands into her forehead.

"Well, try." Nora had every right to sound annoyed, but she didn't- the other girl just sank down onto her pillows and yawned again. "You need some rest before the Clave meeting."

"Everyone's telling me that." Bailey didn't mean to snap, but it came out that way. "Everyone's telling me that it's going to be okay, that the Clave will solve anything..." she pressed a hand to her stomach. "But I can feel it. I can _feel_ it, Nora, it's not going to be." Her words turned agonized. "They can't do anything about this, if more Nephilim keep dying..."

Nora didn't speak. Bailey turned off the light, thinking she had gone to sleep, and laid back down, trying to close her eyes.

"I think that you're right," Nora whispered into the darkness. "I don't want to. But I think that you're right."

Clary stared into the dark, not really seeing anything, just recounting all of the events from today. When her mind traveled over her conversation with Bailey, her stomach squeezed tightly, causing an ache in her chest.

Clary was the one who had found Bailey Ravenmark, a seven-year-old girl living on the streets. Clary had seen her three times, but the fourth time that she saw her, Bailey was facing down a group of demons with one seraph blade in hand and ferocity burning in her eyes. That was when Clary knew that she was a Shadowhunter. She had rushed in, pulling out her own sword and had started fighting the demons. Bailey's eyes were burning- she tried to charge one, but Clary had held her back.

Surprisingly strong for her spindly figure, Bailey had broken free and killed the demon. Afterwards, when the demons were killed, Clary had turned to look at Bailey, seeing the girl drenched in black ichor, with the same look flaming in her face and the sword in hand. She had looked like a real Shadowhunter, a street-weathered, hard-beaten girl.

Clary had taken Bailey to the Institute, where she began her training. She had always been the most voracious for learning- when her first Mark was applied, she had winced more than a normal Shadowhunter would, and that, plus her slightly pointed ears, had added up- she was part faerie. That didn't stop Bailey from learning- she was fast, eager, and vicious.

"Hey. Are you still up?"

Jace stirred beside Clary, snapping her out of her reverie. She nodded, then realized that he couldn't see it in the dark. "Yeah."

"Go to sleep already." Jace's arm circled Clary- he pulled her close to him. "Stop worrying."

"Easy for you to say," Clary muttered.

"It's not." Jace surprised her with his seriousness- she turned to look at him. In the dimness, she could just make out his figure. He was lying on his back beside her, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. "I don't like the Clave," he said suddenly.

"Yeah, neither do I. They quit looking for you when you were bound to Sebastian," Clary agreed.

"Yeah, I hate them for that, but more than that. They've always been so... Law-y," Jace finished.

"That's a word?" Clary teased him.

"No... I mean..." Jace let out a frustrated breath. "They're always so bound to the Law. I hate that about them."

"The Law is what's keeping the rouge Downworlders and all that from attacking us," Clary reminded him.

"And look how well that turned out." Jace's words were dry.

Clary searched her brain for something to say that would make him feel better. She let out a sigh and leaned over to kiss him. "Look, it will be fine." She tried to sound more confident than she felt.

Jace pursed his lips together and didn't say anything, which worried Clary more than if he had.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"You're _sure_ that Brother Jeremiah said that it was a faerie using a non-approved-Clave weapon?" Maia Roberts asked for the fifteenth time, biting down briefly on her thumbnail, her wild gold-and-brown curls bouncing nervously.

" _Yes_ ," Lucy responded for the fifteenth time from where she was perched on the arm of the couch in their small apartment. Maia wrung her hands together.

"Well, it doesn't surprise me- the fey have never been the most Lawful Downworlders," Maia said, almost to herself. She was walking in such a tight circle now that she must be getting dizzy, Lucy thought. It was starting to make her own stomach churn to watch her mother pace back and forth.

Maia spun towards her daughter so suddenly that Lucy startled, nearly tumbling off of the couch. She gripped the fabric tightly, holding herself on. "What _is_ it?"

Maia pressed her lips together. "Where are Clary and Simon and Jace and Isabelle and- well, all of them that are going to Idris?"

"They already left." Lucy dug her phone out of her pocket. "They left _yesterday,_ Mom." She scrolled briefly through her messages. "They're meeting the Clave today, to "discuss the matter.""

Maia was pacing even more tightly now. "And what about that boy at the Institute?"

Lucy was starting to get seasick just watching her mother. She tried to concentrate on the unmoving coffee table in front of her. "What boy?" she asked the glossy wood.

Maia shook her head. "That person- James? Jackson?"

"Jonah," Lucy corrected her. "I don't know- he kind of drifts in and out." She pressed her fingertips into her forehead.

"He's part faerie," Maia muttered, so softly that Lucy could barely hear her.

Lucy jerked her head up to look at Maia- and the pieces clicked together. A laugh, insane and wild, burst from her mouth. Maia frowned at her. "What is it?"

"You think _Jonah_ is a threat?" The laugh was uncontrolled. Lucy nearly fell off of the couch again in the hilarity of the idea.

Maia frowned at her, the corners of her mouth turning down. "It's a possibility," she snapped defensively. Lucy saw the look on her mother's face and jammed her hand against her mouth to stop laughing.

"Yes, but... Jonah is a good person. I know it. Benjamin is even friends with him. _Jace_ is okay with him, Mom," Lucy explained, trying to keep a serious expression on her face.

Maia frowned. "Lucy, I just... I don't think that we can completely trust him. Just hear me out-"

Lucy jumped up from the couch. She didn't want to have this conversation, a conversation that made her feel tight and squeezed, like she was being forced into a too-tight space for her body. _Jonah is_ not _a traitor_! She felt like screaming. Instead, she grabbed the apartment keys from off of the table. "Whatever." She shrugged on her jacket. "I'm going to go down to the bar. The pack is probably there. I'll check out how things are going." She managed a fleeting smile to Maia and raced out of the apartment, not giving her mother a chance to object.

The smile disappeared from her face as soon as she was outside. Lucy clenched her fists, the key biting into her palm. "There are no traitors," she muttered. "The Clave will smooth everything out. It will all be fine."

Nora's eyes snapped open, so suddenly that it was almost as if someone had screamed next to her ear. For a second, she couldn't remember where she was, and she felt a panicky jump in her stomach, sitting straight up-

Then she recognized the small room, the narrow bed that she was sitting in, the buttery yellow walls. _Amatis's house in Idris,_ her mind reminded her.

Nora glanced at her watch. 6:45 am. She jumped quickly out of bed, rummaging through her suitcase, just as she heard a knock on the door.

"Are you decent?" Benjamin's voice floated through the door to reach Nora's ears. She straightened up. "Yes."

Benjamin stepped through the door, leaning against the frame. He was dressed in fresh jeans and a pale gray T-shirt, his arms bare despite the cloudy, icy weather outside. His golden hair looked as though it had just been washed, straight but curling at the edges. His eyes glittered, and the corner of his mouth twitched up. He slid one hand into his pocket. "Teddy bears are in?" he said dryly.

Nora glanced down at her pajamas, blue with printed teddy bears. She felt a hot flush rise in her cheeks, then pushed it down. _Why should I be_ blushing? Mentally berating herself, Nora gathered her dignity. "What do you want?"

"We're all having breakfast... we're going to be late to the Clave meeting if you keep stalling," Benjamin responded carelessly. "So you might want to come on down."

Nora resisted the urge to throw her seraph blade at him. "Fine," she grumbled. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

Benjamin disappeared, shutting the door behind him. Nora quickly exchanged her pajamas for a plain white T-shirt and jeans with a knitted brown cardigan, pulling her dark hair back up in a low ponytail. It wasn't fashionable- nothing about what she wore signified that she was a Shadowhunter. Carefully, she propped her clunky glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose- she had inherited the crummy eyesight from her dad- and went downstairs.

Everybody was gathered around the small wooden table that balanced precariously on three legs, wobbling dangerously when anyone touched it. Nora brought up a chair, gingerly sitting in a corner, squashed between Bailey and Jace. Jace jerked his chin at her, and Nora looked down at the table- she could never meet Jace's eye. He was too majestic, almost like a lion, like she wasn't high enough to meet his gaze.

"Toast? Cereal? Almond-flaxseed bar?" Simon offered her. He looked rested- no more shadows under his eyes, but his eyes were still squinted under his glasses, smudged with fingerprints.

Nora's stomach was churning- she didn't think that she could manage anything down in her nervousness. "Um, just the bar," she said.

Simon handed her another, slightly flattened bar. Nora unwrapped it and bit down. "Thanks, Dad."

He smiled briefly at her.

"Okay, everyone." Magnus stood up, making the table wobble- Nora grabbed tightly to the edge. "We need a plan for when we meet the Clave."

Alec arched one eyebrow. His bow and quiver of arrows were strapped across his back. "This isn't war, Magnus," he reminded his boyfriend.

"Said the one with the bow and arrow," Jace responded.

Alec frowned.

"Shut up, Jace," Magnus snapped, and Jace felt silent, but the corners of his mouth still twitched. "Jace is right," Magnus continued, casting a grudging look at Jace, "This is not war. But however... we have to have a plan. They might make one of us take up the Mortal Sword."

"I'll do it," Clary said immediately. Benjamin and Jace instantly turned to her. "Clary-" Jace started, wrinkles deepening into his forehead.

"No." Simon shook his head and pushed his glasses up higher. "I'll do it. I was there with Clary- and plus, if they decide to use the Mortal Sword on me, the worst it'll do to me is make me blow up or explode or something like that." He grinned weakly.

"Shut up, Simon, and don't even joke about that." Isabelle's voice was hard. "Let Clary do it. She's a Shadowhunter. And-" it obviously pained her to say this- "The Clave will probably believe her more than they would believe you."

"I'm a Shadowhunter-in-training," Simon offered.

Isabelle frowned deeply at him. "Can you stop?"

"Yes," Simon said meekly.

"I'll take the Mortal Sword." Clary's jaw was set- Nora could see the determination in her dark green eyes. "Let's go."


	9. Chapter 9

**NOTE: ALMOST ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. THE SETTINGS (IDRIS, ALICANTE, ETC.) ALSO BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. I AM JUST BORROWING THEM.**

 **CHAPTER EIGHT**

The Council Hall glowed with runes of angelic power, inscribed deeply into the walls of the Marked fortress, with the only Portal in Idris glowing there.

Bailey raised her head to look above Jace's. He was in the lead, Clary beside him. She looked petite, almost doll-like beside him, if not for the hard set of her jaw and the look in her dark, spring-green eyes that Benjamin had inherited directly from her. As Bailey watched, Clary slid her hand into Jace's, their fingers tangling tightly together for comfort.

Clary. Bailey's throat pinched at the thought, and she clenched her fists, looking down at her feet, feeling the bite of her fingernails in her palms. She had never meant to hurt Clary yesterday afternoon, but all of her anger and fear and tension had just exploded, like a cork popping in her throat. _Mostly fear,_ Bailey's mind whispered. And it was true, as much as she wanted to deny it. All of her fear about her faerie blood had erupted yesterday.

 _What if I'm next?_ Bailey's mind raced. _What if I'm going to die... or someone close to me? Will they use me as that advantage? What will happen?_

"Welcome, Nephilim." Rosa Doveheart's voice cut into Bailey's frantic, fearful, silent speaking. The woman stood up. Her hands were clasped behind her back.

Bailey had only ever heard about the Council leader, the heir of Jia Penhallow. She stared now in half-awe at Rosa. She had dark blond hair that was wrangled back into a tight ponytail- it was shot through with strands of silver. She had steely, hard grey eyes and small wrinkles unfurling at the corners of her eyes and her lips- her nose as thin and sharp, and her mouth was a jagged and rocky slash between her sharp jaw and the tip of her nose.

"Hello, Rosa." Jace's voice was tight.

Rosa's eyes narrowed as she saw Simon and Magnus, hanging back behind the group. She pressed her lips together. "And why did you bring Downworlders?"

Bailey had heard about Rosa being especially uptight about Downworlders. Her breath caught in her lungs- she turned partially, seeing Magnus and Simon out of the corner of her eye. Magnus's catlike eyes were narrowed into dark, gleaming slits, his muscles tight- Simon just looked vaguely uncomfortable, but like he was used to having this all the time.

Isabelle opened her mouth, her dark eyes flashing angrily, but her brother stepped in front of her- Bailey could see him stepping down hard on her toe to shut her up. Isabelle glared at him.

Alec ignored it. "Magnus and Simon are witnesses to the three slaughtered Nephilim," he announced, looking straight up at Rosa. "They have a right to be here."

Rosa pressed her lips together, so hard that they turned white, her cheeks tightening. "Very well," she gave in finally with a tight nod. "You may sit."

Magnus's eyes still shone with anger- Bailey saw Alec step back to his place beside Alec, taking his boyfriend's hand in his own, and saw Magnus's face soften marginally. She scuttled back, sitting quickly, to be sandwiched in between Nora and Simon.

"Good." Rosa nodded again- even her hair looked frightening. Bailey clenched her hands around her knees, trying to keep her fingers from shaking. She hated herself for this. For her fear. Fear had always been Bailey's flaw, her weakness, her Achille's heel, as much as she tried to forget about it and move on, to become a warrior, to fight with no weak bone in her body.

"Jonathan Herondale." Rosa turned her head, locking her eyes into Jace's dark golden ones. "Please, describe what you have seen."

"I didn't see anything." Jace's words were stiff. "Clary, Simon, Benjamin, Nora, and Bailey did." He gestured to each one as he spoke.

Rosa looked at him, tight-lipped. "Very well." She nodded again. _This lady really likes nodding,_ Bailey noted to herself. "Very well," she repeated. "Which one of you would like to take the Mortal Sword, to tell the truth of what you have seen to the Council?"

Bailey could almost hear the whole group swallow. A collective gulp. She felt paralyzed- arms, wrists, fingers, legs, ankles- as she watched Clary stand. She looked so delicate, so fragile, and yet, Bailey knew that she wasn't. After all, she, Bailey, had been trained personally by Clary for the first five years of her stay in the Institute. She had learned to wield a seraph blade, draw her first _iratze,_ and use a stele properly, among much, much more.

 _She shouldn't have to take the Sword._

The thought rang in Bailey's head.

 _She shouldn't have to._

 _She shouldn't._

And yet, she was frozen as she sat there, watching Jace's eyes grip Clary's face as if it was a last goodbye, watching Clary step up to grip the Mortal Sword. She shuddered at the touch, as though it physically pained her.

"Please, tell us what you saw." Rosa's eyes were bright. Almost hungry.

Clary swallowed- Jace's muscles were taut. Bailey could see his shoulders, straining against the sleeves of his shirt in their tension. "Simon and I," she started. "Simon and I were walking to the deli to get noodles... and... then we saw... three Nephilim." She swallowed again. "In Central Park."

"You were in Central Park? In New York?" Rosa pressed. "Why were you there?"

Clary's eyelids fluttered- her chest heaved. Bailey felt something warm spark in her chest. It took her a minute to realize that it was anger. Hot anger, at the Council, for making Clary do this. She clenched her fists harder.

"We were eating there," Clary said. She breathed quickly. "And we saw... tucked in the trees... there were three Nephilim. Just lying there." Another gulp. "And they weren't moving." Her eyelids closed tight, as if she was in pain- Jace's jaw was clenched tightly. "There were daggers in their chests. And we saw... a small bell. Just lying there. I've seen it before." Her breathing seemed to be getting easier with each word that fell from her lips. "It's a faerie bell."

There was a collective intake of breath from the Council- Rosa's eyebrows knotted together.

"A _faerie_ bell?" she said, a hint of disbelief in her words.

Clary's shoulders were starting to droop- she seemed to struggle against something. "Yes," she managed out. "And then... the Silent Brothers... told us... Simon, Bailey, Benjamin, Nora and I... that it was a non-Clave-approved faerie weapon." She gasped aloud, as if in pain- Jace's cheekbone was twitching almost manically, starkly white against his evenly tanned skin.

"Was there anything else?" Rosa asked. Clary's chest heaved.

"I- don't- think... so, no..." The muscles in her back tightened and arched, as if she was in agony, and Jace leapt out of his chair, sprinting almost cat-like across the room, grabbing Clary's hands.

"Stop," he said- the word was clear and powerful, ringing out, reverberating in fury. His eyes were smoldering as he looked at Rosa. "Stop. Don't you see that it's torturing her? You've got enough information, so _stop._ "

"Jace-" Clary started, but Jace cut her off.

"STOP," he said again, the word louder and more insistent. "Stop now, or I swear, I will-"

"Jace!" Clary grabbed his hands, holding them tightly. "It's okay, I'm okay, it's all _okay._ I can take the Mortal Sword."

Rosa tapped her hand against one desk, considering. "Very well," she said again. She jerked her chin at Clary. "You may sit." Her eyes narrowed as they fell upon Jace. "And you. You sit."

Jace breathed tightly, but didn't struggle back. "Very well." It was almost mocking, disguised under a thin layer of fake politeness. He sat next to Clary- Bailey could see that his teeth were still clenched.

Rosa folded her hands on top of her desk. "This is all very... surprising," she said, a special weight on the last word.

Something sparked again in Bailey's chest. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, sharp as jagged rocks. Rosa looked down at her hands.

"The faeries are strange Downworlders. However, they would not go against the Law..."

"We can bring a Silent Brother in here, if you want." Isabelle's black eyes were fiery, just like Jace's. "We have all the proof that you need, Rosa."

Rosa looked up at the ceiling, as if asking the Angel for help. "That won't be necessary," she responded. "We will send a Nephilim, a vampire, and a werewolf down to speak to the fey." She nodded with a thin smile at Isabelle. "We can sort it out. Don't you worry." It was almost like she was patting a small girl on the shoulder- Isabelle's eyes were practically tiny volcanoes.

"Fine." Isabelle got up, swinging herself around, kicking her chair into place- it wobbled dangerously and Simon winced. "Fine," she repeated. "Let's go." She jerked her head at the rest of the group, and everyone wasted no time in following.

As they headed silently out, Bailey couldn't help but think that that meeting had not helped matters in the slightest. In fact, it had probably made them worse.


	10. Chapter 10

**NOTE: ALMOST ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. THE SETTINGS (IDRIS, ALICANTE, ETC.) ALSO BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. I AM JUST BORROWING THEM.**

 **CHAPTER NINE**

Jonah collapsed onto his couch as soon as he entered his apartment, sprawling out over the checkered cloth and stretching his long, lanky arms above his head. He gazed up at the dim lightbulb, trying desperately to light the small space. A small grin unfurled over his mouth as he thought about the Seelie Queen and her words.

It all made sense to him now. Of _course_ the fey were trying to take over the power from the Nephilim. Why wouldn't they? The Shadowhunters had always gotten the glory. A bitter taste curled in Jonah's mouth, like a copper tablet at the back of his throat. Why should the Shadowhunters always be the ones who were known as brave warriors and strong fighters?

Jonah swung his legs off of the couch and touched the intricate ring on his fourth finger. The Seelie Queen had given it to him. He could recall her words, the brush of scarlet hair across his cheek as she leaned forwards to slip the ring onto his finger- _"The time will come. I will tell you through this ring. When you hear it, come quickly. We can defeat the Nephilim."_ She had had an almost manic gleam in her eye as she straightened up. _"We can defeat them. All of the Downworlders, working together, and we can take over the world."_

Jonah's stomach rumbled- he banged open his small, cruddy fridge, taking out a juice box, just as the door opened.

A tall, dazzling figure stood in the doorway- a woman with long, wind-swept black hair and pale, pale skin, her eyes as dark as the night. She grinned at Jonah, kicking the door shut with one bejeweled heel. "I'm home," she announced, throwing her handbag across the room, where it landed perfectly on the couch.

Jonah grinned back at her. "Victoria," he said, bowing, the juice box still in his hand.

Victoria waltzed over. "Why weren't you at the deli at four? I thought that we were going to meet there."

 _Crud._ Jonah set his juice box onto the counter. "Important meeting."

"Like what?" Victoria sat at one of the spindly chairs at the counter, tossing back her hair. Jonah studied his fingernails. He wasn't exactly comfortable with telling Victoria about the Seelie Queen. After all, Victoria _was_ a vampire- the head of the New York clan- even though she was his girlfriend. He hesitated.

"Come _on._ " Victoria rolled her inky eyes impressively- they were elaborated with mascara and eyeshadow, even though she didn't really need it. Victoria was already striking enough.

 _The Seelie Queen_ did _say that_ all _the Downworlders should be in on this..._ Jonah sighed. "Fine. The Seelie Queen sent me a message."

Victoria's back stiffened. "What?" Her voice was careful, soft, but deadly- Jonah winced.

"Well, she was talking..." Jonah cleared his throat. "It's about the Nephilim."

"Killing them?" Victoria sniffed derisively. "Like the fey could ever kill a Shadowhunter. Vampires are the ones for that." She smiled at him- her fangs had slid out, sharp and gleaming.

"Well, yeah, three Nephilim plus Elaine Penhallow and some more have been slaughtered by the fey."

"I know." Victoria scowled at him. "Can you tell me something that's actually _interesting_?"

"Fine." Jonah crumpled his juice box and chucked it into the trash can. "The Seelie Queen wants to ally with all of the Downworlders to overthrow the Nephilim." He didn't look up at Victoria- she was silent.

Jonah finally looked up, meeting her eyes, and she was grinning again.

" _Now_ you're talking interesting," she said in satisfaction.

Lucy entered the Hunter's Moon, expecting lots of werewolves to be there.

There were only two.

Kat was standing behind the counter, polishing a glass, and Will was sitting at the counter, staring at a cup of dark liquid in front of him.

"Kat? Will?" Lucy dropped into a chair beside Will, completely confused. "What's going on?" She peeled off her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair- no one responded.

"Where's everyone else?" Lucy pressed.

Kat rubbed the glass harder. "They disappeared," she stated flatly.

" _What do you mean_?" Lucy was getting impatient. She leaned forwards, panic starting to prickle in her fingertips. "Why would they disappear? Will?" She looked frantically at the forlorn person sitting beside her- he traced his fingertip in the dew on the side of his glass and sighed deeply, scratching the corners of his thin mustache.

"Kat and I don't know," he said, finally looking up at her. Lucy always had the impression that Will tried to seem as ratty and ragged as he could- his jeans were scuffed, there were holes in the toes of his sneakers, and his T-shirt was faded and bleached. His dirty blond hair was flat, as though it was unwashed, and hung in strands around his crookedly placed face. "We got here- to the Hunter's Moon- just around five, and they were all gone." He raised his shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know. _We_ don't know."

Lucy's mind raced. _The werewolves are gone. The pack has disappeared._ What _is_ HAPPENING?

She tried to calm her breathing. "Around five? Did they leave anything?"

Kat and Will exchanged a look, and Kat ducked briefly under the counter. When she emerged, she held out her palm, showing a small, silver bell on a chain.

"We found this," Kat stated. "It's a bell. It was by the doorway." She shook her head. "Do you know what it is?"

Lucy couldn't speak. She could feel fear contracting in her throat.

Kat's eyes pressed into hers, persistant. "It's a faerie bell, Lucy," she said. "It's a summoning, and they all went."


	11. Chapter 11

**NOTE: ALMOST ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. THE SETTINGS (IDRIS, ALICANTE, ETC.) ALSO BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. I AM JUST BORROWING THEM.**

 **CHAPTER TEN**

The lamp flickered dimly above Rosa Doveheart's head. She rubbed her eyes, leaning back in her chair, as if she could rub away the tiredness. She glanced at the clock beside her. _12:34,_ the sure and steady hands reported.

Rosa ran one hand through her already-smooth bun of blonde-grey hair and looked back down at the task at hand. A blank sheet of white paper sat expectantly in front of her, a quill laid across it. Rosa had always enjoyed using feather quills, even though they weren't really necessary anymore.

She picked up the quill. It felt as heavy as lead in her fingers. Carefully, she dipped it into the bottle of ink standing patiently beside the paper, and set the thin tip of the quill to the paper.

Something made her hesitate.

It wasn't that she didn't believe Clarissa Fray about the faeries slaughtering the Nephilim. It could be true, for all Rosa knew. But still, something deep down inside of her was reluctant to admit that it might've been the fey.

A word glowed in Rosa's head, filling her brain. _Edward._

She swallowed, scrunching her eyes up tightly, trying to push the thought away, but it stayed stubbornly in place. _Edward._ With his dark hair and his sharply angled face and the luminous, pearly green-silver eyes that had made Rosa fall for him.

Hard.

 _I AM OVER THAT!_ Rosa screamed internally at herself. _He died, and that's for the better. That way, I'm not so attached. The Council leader shouldn't be attached to such pathetic things, like love! It doesn't matter anymore!_

Biting her lip, hard, until she could taste the metallic tang of blood, Rosa started to write a letter to the werewolf pack leader, the New York vampire clan leader, and Magnus Bane.

"This is all very... _surprising,"_ Isabelle mimicked Rosa Doveheart in a high-pitched, tinny, girly voice for the fiftieth time since they had left the Council Hall. Now, she kicked open the door to Amatis's house with frightening ferocity, her sharp boot heel nearly puncturing the weak wood- Bailey winced.

" _Izzy_ ," Simon said, voice strained. "Isabelle, calm down."

"Calm down?" Isabelle spun around- Bailey nearly slammed into her. Isabelle's eyes were wide and dark in pure fury. " _Calm down?_ You want me to calm down, when the whole Nephilim future might be in stake and _Rosa Doveheart_ doesn't want to do anything about it?"

Simon cringed. "I just mean-"

"Can everyone relax?" Alec glared at his sister.

"Let's get inside," Clary said hastily. Her face was pale, as if she could still feel the effects of the Mortal Sword. She brushed past Isabelle into the house.

"Finally. Thank God," Bailey heard Benjamin mutter behind her- she turned around to look at him as he shouldered his way inside.

"You okay?" she asked carefully, searching his face. Benjamin rolled his eyes and dug his fingers into his hair.

"The Clave is just so _stupid_ ," he said fiercely, but quietly- Nora joined them. She brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and looked anxiously at Benjamin. "We can work it out," she said tensely.

"No, we can't." The words spilled from Bailey's mouth before she could stop them- Nora's eyebrows furrowed together and she swallowed tightly, looking sideways at Benjamin.

"I know," she said, quietly. "It was just a hope."

Which made Bailey feel even worse. She crossed her arms over her chest and headed quickly upstairs- she needed to be alone for a while. She knelt by her suitcase, untucking all of the piles of neatly folded jeans and T-shirts to uncover her seraph blade, Michael. Carefully, she touched the gleaming _armdas_ with one fingertip. She could almost feel the power of the blade rising through the metal to her skin.

Something caught the corner of Bailey's eye- she turned to see a leaf, rattling by the window, and frowned. _Why is that there_? Bailey stood, brushing off her jeans, and made her way over the dusty wooden floorboards, catching the leaf in between her index finger and her thumb and pulling it towards her.

She gasped aloud.

There was writing on the leaf.

 _TO BAILEY RAVENMARK- Please come promptly to the faerie realm at 7:00 pm, your time. The Seelie Queen would like to speak to you._

There was no signature, but there didn't have to be. Bailey could recognize that fancy, delicate script, the message on a piece of nature, anywhere.

A faerie message.

Calling her.

Benjamin was angry.

And when he was angry, he wanted to punch something.

Such as a demon. A nice, clean kill would probably cheer him up right now.

However, there was no way that his parents- or anyone in this house, for that matter- would appreciate him summoning some demon just to expel his anger on it.

So, instead, Benjamin paced.

To be frank, Benjamin found himself an excellent pacer. He would clasp his hands behind his back, develop the perfect look of harried concentration- back hunched slightly, shoulders tightened, eyebrows darkly pulled down, hair flopping in every direction.

Plus, it looked pretty hot. (Benjamin had tested this theory- he had paced in Central Park once, and when he broke his look of perfect concentration to glance up briefly, he found all of the female eyes in the park locked onto him).

In fact, he was so into pacing that he didn't notice Bailey until she nearly slammed into him.

" _God._ " Bailey stumbled backwards and pulled herself upright, scowling at him. Benjamin saw a flash of something reddish-orange, the color of autumn, in her hand before it disappeared behind her back. "God. What _was_ that? Were you dry heaving or something?"

"What?" Surely, Benjamin had heard wrong. Had she just insulted his _excellent pacing_?

"You know." Bailey imitated him- eyebrows pulling together into a furry caterpillar across her forehead, waddling across the carpet.

Benjamin _seriously_ hoped that that was not what his pacing looked like. He drew himself up, dignified.

"That was pacing," he announced.

Bailey rolled her eyes, her hand moving slightly- once again, Benjamin saw the flash of red-orange. He grabbed at her hand. "Wait a second. What is that?"

Bailey pulled her hand away. "None of your buisness." She started moving past him. Benjamin caught at her right wrist and she glared darkly at him. "Did you get the nosy genes from Jace or Clary?" she asked sourly, tugging at her wrist. "Let me go."

"Show me what you have." Benjamin grabbed at her hand again- Bailey twisted, and Benjamin's fingers circled her left wrist in a tight, interlocking chain. Bailey scowled deeply. "You are the most annoying person I have ever had the misfortune to meet," she informed him.

"Why, thank you." Benjamin grabbed at the poking red-orange in her hand- she brought her knee up, so fast that Benjamin barely had time to react- he spun backwards, breaking his hold on Bailey, but with a leaf in his hand.

A red-orange, autumn leaf. Benjamin raised his eyebrows. "You were being secretive about a _leaf_?"

"Give that back!" Bailey snatched at it, but Benjamin held her back, expertly flipping it over and reading it with the other hand.

 _TO BAILEY RAVENMARK- Please come promptly to the faerie realm at 7:00 pm, your time. The Seelie Queen would like to speak to you._

Benjamin's eyes were wide and he let his hand drop- the leaf fluttered to the ground and Bailey snatched it up.

"Happy?" she snapped.

"Why does the Seelie Queen want to see you?" That was all Benjamin could manage to say- there were too many thoughts in his brain.

"Why the heck should I know?"

"Is it because... you know..." Benjamin hesitated, but ploughed ahead. "Your faerie blood?" He knew that this was a touchy subject, and honestly, he didn't want to get another black eye and broken nose (five weeks ago. Training. Benjamin had made the mistake of bringing it up. Result- lots of ice packs and lots of blood on the floor). Benjamin braced himself for Bailey's wrath, but, surprisingly, it didn't come.

Bailey just glared even more deeply at him. "I said, _why should I know_?" She moved past him, to the stairs.

"Wait a second." Benjamin stopped her. "You're not actually thinking of going to... you know, see the Seelie Queen, right?"

For a second, so quick that maybe Benjamin had imagined it, Bailey hesitated. Then she rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid. Of course not."


	12. Chapter 12

**NOTE: ALMOST ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. THE SETTINGS (IDRIS, ALICANTE, ETC.) ALSO BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. I AM JUST BORROWING THEM.**

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN**

The lights of Alicante were dimming, and the twilight-light was starting to take over. Magnus leaned his elbows against the windowsill, the tip of his nose against the frosty glass pane. He was starting to feel restless and jumpy about being shut inside all day, and that feeling itched at his nerves.

"You okay?"

Magnus turned to see Alec, standing in the doorway. He was wearing a pullover brown sweater with holes at the elbows, and his lips were chapped, his nails raw. His eyes looked bleak and tired. Magnus felt a wave of exhaustion and worry wash over him. He straightened up and walked over.

"I'm fine." Magnus pulled at the sleeve of Alec's sweater, examining the holes. "The question is, are _you_ okay?"

Alec squinted at him. "Emotional now, aren't you?" The attempt at a joke was half-hearted- he sank down on the bed, holding his face in his hands. Magnus studied his face, his weary hunched-over pose.

"Alec." His voice came out harder and sharper than Magnus had meant for it to. Alec glanced up, surprise mingling with the weary on his face. "Alec. You can't just shut me out like this."

"I am _not_ shutting you out." Alec stood up and walked over to the window, his back facing Magnus.

"You call that not shutting me out?" Magnus scowled at him, even though he knew Alec couldn't see him. He hated when Alec acted this way- cold and distant and utterly detached. It made him feel uncomfortable, like he was being forced out of his skin, and Magnus never liked to feel uncomfortable. "You have to start telling me things, Alec."

"Fine!" Alec whirled around. There was a ferocity written across his face that was startling to Magnus- he took a step back. "Fine! I'll tell you what it is. It's _this._ It's not knowing things. It's that the Clave _isn't doing anything, and there's nothing we can do_!"

Words died at Magnus's lips- all he could do was stare at Alec. Alec's chest was heaving, and his eyes were slightly wild.

Magnus opened his mouth to say something just as Isabelle kicked open the door, flying in. Alec turned on her, glaring at his sister. "We're _kind_ of in the middle of something, Izzy."

"Oh, like all of the times that you barged in on me and Simon?" Isabelle scowled. "Plus, I wasn't here for you. A letter came in the mail. For you." She turned to Magnus and handed him an envelope.

Magnus looked down at the square of paper in his hands. "What's in it?"

"How could I know?" Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm leaving." She said it pointedly to Alec before shutting the door.

Magnus slid his fingertip under the envelope's lid, sliding it open. A sheet of fresh paper fell out- Magnus picked it up. On it was black, small type, marching across the paper like a little army.

 _To Magnus Bane, Victoria Lowly, and Maia Roberts,_

 _As you well know, there have been Nephilim slaughterings. A Council Meeting was held today at the Gard with witnesses including Clarissa Morgenstern. Holding the Mortal Sword, she confirmed that she had heard from the Silent Brothers that it was the fey, using a non-Clave-approved weapon to kill these Shadowhunters. There have been doubts. We will not battle until we must._

 _To speak to the fey and try to understand, we have elected the three of you to dine with the Seelie Queen and try to get information. This will be held tomorrow, at 7:00._

 _Thank you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Rosa Doveheart_

Magnus could only stare at the paper in his hands.

"Well?" Alec's voice was edged with impatience. "What is it?"

Magnus swallowed. It felt like something sharp was lodged in his throat. His voice was dull when he spoke.

"Rosa Doveheart. She thinks that _speaking_ to the Seelie Queen will help." His voice was acidic- Magnus stuffed the letter into his pocket.

Alec looked strangely at him. "Magnus?"

"Yes?"

"Is... is everything going to be okay?" Something about his voice and the utter smallness of it made Magnus's heart split.

"Yes," he said, and walked over, gently taking Alec's hands in his own. He leaned forwards until the tips of their noses touched and closed his eyes as their lips barely brushed. "Yes."

"Victoria? Mail."

Victoria squinted her eyes open. The dim light above her shone directly into her eyes- she rolled over, tugging the fleecy blanket tighter around her shoulders and scrunching her eyes shut again. "I'm the head of the New York vampire clan," she mumbled. "I don't _care_ about mail."

"You care about this." Victoria raised her head slightly as Jonah entered the room- he was dressed properly, in a dark white T-shirt and jeans, his hair brushed, straight but curly at the edges, showing his slightly pointed ears. _Faerie,_ Victoria thought, a smile curling her lips.

She had never thought that she, Victoria, would date a faerie. Their entire race had always seemed too wishy-washy and feeble. But as she had gotten to know Jonah, they had a viciousness that she appreciated... she sat up, raising herself on her elbows and flicking a strand of hair out of her face. "Let me see."

Jonah handed her an envelope, and Victoria tore it open, grabbing the crisp sheet of paper that fell out.

 _To Magnus Bane, Victoria Lowly, and Maia Roberts,_

 _As you well know, there have been Nephilim slaughterings. A Council Meeting was held today at the Gard with witnesses including Clarissa Morgenstern. Holding the Mortal Sword, she confirmed that she had heard from the Silent Brothers that it was the fey, using a non-Clave-approved weapon to kill these Shadowhunters. There have been doubts. We will not battle until we must._

 _To speak to the fey and try to understand, we have elected the three of you to dine with the Seelie Queen and try to get information. This will be held tomorrow, at 7:00._

 _Thank you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Rosa Doveheart_

Victoria stared at the paper in her hands as a grin crept slowly across her mouth.

"This is _perfect,_ " she announced, throwing the sheet down.

Jonah raised his eyebrows. "What's perfect? The fact that we are finally going to overthrow the Nephilim? Is that what you found out?"

" _Yes_." Victoria threw off the covers and riffled through her drawer, throwing on a knee-length, pure black dress. She turned to smile at Jonah- she could feel her fangs popping out. She was hungry. " _Yes._ "

The New York morning was clear, the bright sunshine filtering cleanly through the glassy windowpanes. Maia Roberts stumbled from her bedroom into the kitchen/living room, looking blearily around, willing her eyes to focus.

Lucy was back. Sprawled out over the couch, under a thin, ratty brown quilt, her halo of golden-brown curls fanned out around her. A glass of pomegranate juice was balanced on a coaster on the coffee table. Maia bent to pick it up, looking at her daughter's face. On closer inspection, Lucy did _not_ appear to be sleeping deeply- there was something off-kilter in her face, sleep circles ringed under her eyes, the laugh lines gone from the corners of her lips. What had happened at the Hunter's Moon?

Maia resisted the urge to wake her daughter up right then and there. She shoved the dirty glass into the sink and checked her mailbox.

There was one envelope, addressed in her name. Maia opened it quickly.

 _To Magnus Bane, Victoria Lowly, and Maia Roberts,_

 _As you well know, there have been Nephilim slaughterings. A Council Meeting was held today at the Gard with witnesses including Clarissa Morgenstern. Holding the Mortal Sword, she confirmed that she had heard from the Silent Brothers that it was the fey, using a non-Clave-approved weapon to kill these Shadowhunters. There have been doubts. We will not battle until we must._

 _To speak to the fey and try to understand, we have elected the three of you to dine with the Seelie Queen and try to get information. This will be held tomorrow, at 7:00._

 _Thank you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Rosa Doveheart_

Maia stared at the forcefully typed black text, marching across the white page.

 _The fey will never listen to words,_ she wanted to scream at Rosa. _How can you not understand!?_

Instead, she darted swiftly over the carpet to wake her daughter up.


	13. Chapter 13

**NOTE: ALMOST ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. THE SETTINGS (IDRIS, ALICANTE, ETC.) ALSO BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. I AM JUST BORROWING THEM.**

 **CHAPTER TWELVE**

Bailey's hands shook as she swiftly unhooked her gear from the peg hanging above her bed, shoving two witchlights into her pocket along with the carefully folded leaf. She lifted up layers of clothing to bring out a sword. Her shortsword. _Pulchritudinem terrore-_ beauty in terror. The name matched the sword perfectly for Bailey. It was about the length of her forearm, glittering silver, with a rune stamped into the hilt- angelic power. Bailey knew that as soon as she got to the Fair Folk realm, the blade would be snatched away from her, but it made her feel better to have it close by. She slipped it quickly into the harness that strapped around her back, made specifically for holding blades and such.

Quickly, Bailey grabbed her stele, drawing the runes of Angelic Power on the insides of both her wrists. She would've preferred to get Marked by Benjamin, who had inherited his mother's talent of drawing especially strong and powerful runes, but she couldn't let him see where she was going. He would follow her, and that would mean disaster. This was her journey. She wasn't going to let anyone else get killed in it.

Bailey stood, turning her forearm to ink a Soundless rune into the pale skin there, webbed by blue veins, and ducked her head out of the spare room, glancing each way. Nobody. She breathed a sigh of relief and stepped outside, heading silently down the stairs. Isabelle and Simon were at the Lightwood manor, and Jace and Clary were at the Herondale manor, probably meeting with some other Shadowhunters to discuss the current situation. That left Magnus, Alec, Nora, and-

"Bailey."

Bailey spun around, hair whipping into her eyes, to see Benjamin, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes were shadowed as he unpeeled himself from the wall and walked towards her.

"Where are you going?"

Bailey swallowed. "I- I'm going to the weapons shop," she lied quickly.

Benjamin raised his eyebrows. "In full gear? And when you have a perfectly good sword?" he was standing three feet away from her and closed the gap, boots soundless. "Bailey. I want the real answer."

"That _is_ the real answer." Bailey bit off the words as she spoke them- time was running short, and her feet itched to get on with it. If only Benjamin would _leave her alone._ "Please, Benjamin-"

Benjamin grabbed her wrist - his skin was hot on hers. "I'm your _parabati._ We are _bound._ If you do this without me, you are disrespecting our vows, our connection, the fact that I am part of this-"

Bailey yanked her wrist away. "Let go of me." She closed her eyes- behind her eyelids, she could see faces. Clary, Jace, Isabelle, Simon, Magnus, Alec, Benjamin, Nora, Lucy, Maia- they ran in an instant, as quick as water, slipping between her fingertips. She needed to do this. "Please."

"I'm coming." Benjamin narrowed his eyes to slits. "I'm coming, and if you don't let me, I'm telling _everybody._ "

Bailey swallowed against a dry throat. "Fine," she snapped. "Get your gear-"

"What's happening?" Nora's voice, a husky combination of Simon's and Isabelle's, followed by her slender face, her narrow frame, her gear clasping at her wrists and back, a weapons belt slung around her slim hips. She raised her dark eyebrows. "I heard your _entire_ conversation," she said, "And, unfortunetely for you, I'm coming. And you can't stop me. Sorry."

Bailey pressed her lips together. "Fine. Get ready, quickly. We're going."


End file.
